By: Rebecca Rush The American imagination has a stereotype of sailors tattooed onto it. Vagabonds with a girl in every port, protecting our nation as they seduce the locals. There’s a new kind of “sailor” afoot, and while they might not be employed by any government, their modus operandi is the

Ah, the hanky: Our community’s polychromatic tradition of flagging the way we like to fuck. Being a perv and a nerd, I’m obviously a fan, with it’s origins supposedly going back in the mists of time to square dances full of randy forty-niners and wayward sailors out for a hot